Live and Let Die
by psychodramabeautyfish
Summary: Darren killed Steve, the vampaneze lost the war, and Darren now Lord of the Shadows. The vampaneze are hunted down one by one like animals, and Vancha knows it's only a matter of time until what he dreads becomes a reality... Rated M for some violence.


Life for a Life

Set post-book twelve.

Disclaimer: Darren Shan is the creator of the DARREN SHAN SAGA surprise surprise.

Thanks to AnyaTheRhymer for letting me borrow her idea of having Darren as Lord of the Shadows

Live and Let Die

The last scream echoed around the cave as it ripped from the tortured man's lips, reverberating off the stone walls until it faded into a pain filled silence.

It took all the self-control Vancha had not to flinch at the sound and not to let his gaze wander. Beside him, Mika Ver Leth was doing a better job of it – staring blankly and emotionlessly at the scene presented to him.

The tortured Vampaneze didn't have any strength left to scream again. His legs gave way beneath him and he managed a small, cracked nose of pain before he finally passed out of consciousness, which was a small mercy.

A few vampires snickered.

Vancha and Mika glanced at each other, each of them trying to convey the same disgust without the use of words, before Arrow stomped back over to them, looping the cat o' nine-tails whip around his arm and looking inhumanely pleased with himself, and all three turned to stare at the boy lounging on his throne a few metres away.

He was inspecting his fingernails as if thoroughly bored, which was probably the case.

Looking up, he noticed that all three vampire princes were staring at him.

Theatrically, he surveyed the room, taking in the crowd of vampires - some uneasy, most gleeful – and the pathetic, crumpled form of the one Vampaneze, before yawning and staring back at the princes.

"He's out already?" He said condescendingly, raising an eyebrow.

"Yup." Confirmed Arrow, winding his whip around his knuckles.

"He didn't last very long."

"Hours." Mika pointed out quietly in the Vampaneze's defence, surprising Vancha a little.

The majority of vampires in the hall scowled, but some shifted uncomfortably.

"Well whatever, that wasn't very productive." Growled the most senior vampire, flicking his hair back from his face.

Vancha jerked his head angrily and replied through gritted teeth:

"I told you none of them would consciously betray the rest of the clan."

Darren Shan grinned, and Vancha had to look away.

That grin wasn't the one he'd known for years - it was twisted, malicious, cruel; worse even, than that lunatic the Vampaneze had followed, Steve Leonard.

He smirked and gestured at Arrow, who was glaring at the other two princes. "Get rid of that mess," he said, pointing to the unconscious Vampaneze. "And take your pick from the other three."

Arrow nodded and beckoned some generals to help him move the limp form and walked from the hall.

"We don't know unless we try." He said to Vancha in a sing-song voice. "One of the others might be prepared to spill."

Mika gave a small jerk of his head which looked like he'd been about to shake his head but stopped himself.

Vancha closed his eyes for a moment's respite and grimaced, balling his hands into fists at his sides.

It was years since the War of the Scars had ended with the death of the Vampaneze Lord, Steve Leonard, and the rise of the new Lord of the Shadows, the once innocent Vampire Prince, Darren Shan.

Mr. Tiny had predicted the extermination of the Vampaneze, the vampires, and all of humanity by this boy – but what he hadn't predicted was why.

Vancha had seen enough over his 300 years to recognise what was going to happen, along with Mika and a few other vampires.

Someone shouted at the back of the hall, and most of the others began to jeer as the generals dragged another unfortunate Vampaneze to the platform.

Vancha and Mika were uneasy, but Arrow was gleeful to have his revenge on the Vampaneze in general.

Mika inhaled sharply when the new Vampaneze was dragged onto the platform and hauled upright. Vancha followed his gaze; then wished he hadn't.

A woman. They hadn't expected that.

Someone whistled.

A woman – even Arrow now hesitated. He glanced uneasily at Darren, visibly fighting an inner mind battle.

The Lord of the Shadows was cold and cruel, with a taste for blood and suffering, and the obvious targets were the Vampaneze – the losers of the War of the Scars, the enemy for so many years.

Darren shrugged as if to say 'what's the problem?'

But when all the Vampaneze had been exterminated, what then?

Vancha could see changes happening in Vampire Mountain already. Harsher punishments for trivial mistakes, invented reasons as an excuse for torture when there were no Vampaneze in the cells.

Darren waved a hand impatiently. "Well get on with it!" He snapped.

Vancha opened his mouth but Mika got there first.

"Is this really necessary?" He demanded.

Darren stared back impassively. "Would I do it if it wasn't?"

"Have some integrity!" Hissed Mika, glancing over at the female Vampaneze, who was holding her head a little higher than necessary, trying to show she wasn't afraid.

The Lord of the Shadows narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Maybe you'd like to take over Mika?"

Mika hissed angrily, paused, and then raised his hands in defeat and took a step backwards.

"Well then." Snickered Darren. "Arrow?"

Arrow wavered, aware of Vancha and Mika staring at him – but then nodded in defeat the way Mika had.

"And… Arrow?"

Darren smiled maliciously. "I want more blood this time. Screams alone are getting boring."

Out of boredom, nothing else, the Lord of the Shadows would turn on his own people after the Vampaneze, and then on humanity.

Once again, Vancha and Mika tried to tune out – but once again, it didn't work. She might have been a woman, but Arrow was as harsh as ever, and her screams were more piercing and shrill then her predecessors' had been. Like the first Vampaneze, she clawed at the wall she was shackled too, leaving her own deep scratches in the rock to try and ease the pain. Mercifully, she passed out quickly.

Darren shifted in his throne to get more comfortable.

"Too fast!" He moaned. "Get the next one. And hurry up about it!" The last sentence was yelled at the two generals.

Vancha watched them jump up and scurry from the hall, carrying the Vampaneze back to her cell, and shook his head.

After torture, the Vampaneze in question were left alone to recover just enough so another bout of cruelty wouldn't kill them, and then the whole process started again.

He was glad when scouts came back unsuccessful, empty-handed, with no new prisoners. The Vampaneze didn't know what awaited them if they were caught. They knew it was bad, but so far no Vampaneze had been released again to tell the tale. If they knew the extent of cruelty that they were to face maybe they'd take more precaution to hide instead of foolishly believing in a fair fight.

These Vampaneze had only recently been captured. Vancha had seen Vampaneze who had been in the mountain for months and it was beyond cruelty. As far as he knew, no Vampaneze who had been captured since the end of the war had been killed – there were those who had seen nothing but those cells for years.

One vampire at the back of the hall close to the door hooted in delight, and the others quickly followed as the next victim was brought up from the cells.

And Vancha knew it was wrong. The Vampaneze had been defeated and humiliated; there was no need to exterminate them all like vermin.

"Oh!" Darren giggled as the next Vampaneze was presented to him.

Vancha thought he was going to throw up at the sound and tried concentrating on the wooden planks below his feet.

Darren continued to laugh, and eventually said:

"Vancha?"

"What?" Snapped the once powerful vampire prince, looking up-

-and immediately wishing he was dreaming.

After a few seconds of gawping he controlled himself. "Yes?"

Darren giggled again, and it was a twisted sound, before gesturing to the Vampaneze.

"Do you know this man?"

Vancha bit his tongue angrily, feeling rage surge and bubble under his skin. He knew the answer to that!

Everyone in the hall was staring at him; waiting. The vampires looked angry, some curious, some pitiful, and others worried.

He looked back at his brother.

Gannen was standing the same as the female Vampaneze had, straight and with his head up, still prideful as much as any other Vampaneze or vampire. And he was looking straight at him. He wasn't going to make his decision easier by not meeting his gaze.

He opened his mouth to say yes but then stopped.

If he said yes then, knowing the cruel creature as he did, it would be worse for Gannen rather than better.

He shook his head miserably. "No."

Darren shrugged and said: "Ok my mistake." But Vancha could see the mocking laughter in his eyes.

Staring at the floor, he couldn't bring himself to look up at his brother as Arrow proceeded to secure the chain around Gannen's wrists the same as both the others and use his fingernails to rip open the back of the Vampaneze's shirt.

But before anyone could do anything to Gannen, Darren interrupted.

"Hey Arrow?" He said suddenly.

"What?" growled the other prince, letting his arm drop from where it had been poised to strike.

Darren grinned maliciously and sprang, panther-like, off his throne, and snatched the cat o' nine-tails out of Arrow's hand.

"I want a go."

"What?!" Vancha blurted in shock, his head snapping up. "No!"

The Lord of the Shadows prided himself on his own methods of inflicting pain – and by his hand torture was so much more intense then by any other's.

Darren grinned, flipped the thing around in his hand and almost skipped over to where Gannen was chained.

Impulsively and without thinking, Vancha leapt across the platform and planted himself between Darren and his brother.

"I said no!" He roared at the shorter man, snatching the whip out of his hand and throwing it across the platform.

There was shocked silence from everyone in the hall, but from behind him Vancha heard Gannen mutter one word.

"Idiot."

Darren was smiling like a cat that had got not only the cream but also the canary.

"Well Vancha," He cooed. "Care to explain yourself?"

Vancha mouth was dry and he dropped his arms, realising how stupid he looked.

"You do know him?" Asked Darren innocently, cocking his head to one side.

The silence continued.

Gannen's one spoken word was running around Vancha's head. Idiot. He sounded bitter, angry.

"Well?" Darren prompted, and this time there was a steely edge to his tone.

"Yes I do." Whispered Vancha eventually.

His brother groaned quietly.

"What?" Said the Lord of the Shadows in delight.

"I said yes I do know him." Vancha repeated louder.

A sudden frenzied murmuring swept through the hall, which stopped as quickly as it had begun when Darren yelled for silence.

"Well Vancha," Mused Darren, a wicked light in his eyes. "Maybe you'd like to take over."

"W-what?" Spluttered the green-haired prince as he heard Gannen let out a low hiss.

He realised that he should have known that was coming - hadn't Darren given Mika the same choice earlier? – and mentally cursed himself. Idiot! Even Gannen had cottoned onto that – that it would be worse if Vancha spoke up.

"Mika?" Said Darren, holding out his hand.

Hesitantly, Mika picked up the discarded cat o' nine-tails and handed it back to the boy prince, not meeting Vancha's eyes.

"Maybe you'd like the responsibility." The boy purred, holding it out to Vancha.

Dumbly, Vancha shook his head, shock preventing words from forming for a few seconds. "No."

This is what he got for trying to protect his little brother – where was the justice in that?

Darren raised his eyebrows and then shrugged.

"Ok then, I get to have my fun. Move."

"No." Repeated Vancha.

"Come on Vancha." Jeered the boy, putting one hand on his hip. "Remember the last battle."

Gannen flinched and Vancha balled his hands into fists angrily.

"That's got nothing to do with it." He said in a low voice.

Darren narrowed his eyes. "Whatever. It's your choice. Either get on with it, or get out the way."

"That's a disgusting choice to present me with." Vancha growled.

The Lord of the Shadows shrugged. "It's the only one you've got so come on, hurry up."

Vancha swallowed.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Everyone had dispersed back to their coffins for a good day's sleep and no one was around. So Vancha quietly made his way down to the cells.

The guards on duty were at the end of their shift, so they were tired and not fully alert, making it easy for the vampire prince to slip past them unnoticed.

The cell level was disgusting.

A long, low ceilinged cave, with tiny cells no bigger than broom cupboards hollowed out of the rock and barred with thick metal along the wall. There was the rancid smell of dried blood, smears of it along the walls, and pools of it beneath several hanging cages which were attached to mechanisms used to constrict the bars and slowly crush the person inside to death. Foul instruments were standing around of lying on tables, some clean and others caked in dark, drying blood. The entire cave reeked of suffering and silent screams.

Desperately, Vancha scanned along the row of cells, peering through the bars and searched for his brother, muttering under his breath.

Most of the Vampaneze were unconscious or sleeping – what else was there to do? – but several noticed him. Some glared up at him with pure hatred; others flattened themselves against the back wall, frightened, trying to get as far away from him as possible; but the most disturbing was one Vampaneze who stared at him with an expression which was totally blank, completely void of any emotion - no fear, no hatred, no curiosity, no nothing. He'd been here so long that he simply didn't care anymore, and there were no emotions left to display.

Slightly disturbed, Vancha continued to inspect the faces of the prisoners, and somewhere near the end of the row, he found his brother.

He was lying on his side, facing away from Vancha, and looked asleep. Through his shirt, Vancha could see livid stripes of red across his back – and he had to look away for a minute in agony.

Eventually he whispered: "Gannen?"

Immediately, Gannen rolled over and sat up, completely alert and not looking at all surprised to see Vancha.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He hissed up at his brother. "What if you get caught? Get out, idiot!"

He didn't look good. His face was scratched, his red hair was stiff with drying blood, and his movements were awkward and pained.

Vancha grimaced and gabbled: "I'm sorry. For what I did. I'm sorry."

That Gannen looked surprised hurt more than any torture the Lord of the Shadows could have inflicted on him.

"You think I enjoyed that?" He spat defensively, in response to Gannen's surprised look.

"I didn't say that." Murmured the Vampaneze quietly. He looked Vancha straight in the eye, his expression hardening. "But I'm no fool. And I can recognise blackmail when I see it."

"But I-" Interrupted Vancha, his eyes straying to the raw skin around his brother's wrists.

"I'm not naïve Vancha!" snapped Gannen. "I know what you did was mercy. You think I can't see how much harsher the torture given to my friends was? How easy I had it by your hand rather that by his?"

Taken aback, Vancha gawped. He thought he'd have to beg. Beg and explain.

"I understand." Confirmed Gannen tersely. "And therefore there's nothing to forgive. Alright?"

The green-haired prince swallowed and crouched down the Gannen's level.

"I wish it wasn't you." He said, and it was almost a plea.

Gannen said nothing to this, just stared at him with that carefully practised, neutral expression Vancha so hated.

"I knew it was only a matter of time. I'd rather it was anyone but you."

"Why does it have to be me?" Cried Gannen suddenly, waking several of the other Vampaneze, who peered out of their cells to see what was going on, to Vancha's horror.

"Why does it have to be me before you stand up and do something?" Continued Gannen. "How many countless others have there been before me? Good men all of them! And you can just sit and watch – waiting for me to come along before you'll stand up and say something!"

The accusation stabbed through Vancha, and he heard some of the other captives murmur in agreement and disgust. His brain immediately called on anger as a defence mechanism.

"Because these are my people!" He shouted. "I'm not one of you Gannen! And what do you think I can do about it huh? How much power do you think I have? I don't have any say what happens – not anymore!"

Gannen opened his mouth to say something but Vancha stopped him.

"I can't stand up for every single Vampaneze who get dragged through those doors!" He continued, slamming his fist into the stone floor. "Of all the ungrateful- I stood up for you because you're kin to me! Can't you understand that Gannen?!"

Gannen was quiet for a moment before his shoulders sagged and he sighed. "Yes I can. I'm sorry."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next evening, there was no screaming.

The vampires filled the hall in uneasy silence, taking in the conspicuous lack of vampaneze prisoners and the Shadow Lord. Vancha stood uneasily with Mika and Arrow on the platform, none of them daring to sit down until the Lord appeared.

When he did, it was not a welcome sight. He was smiling.

He crossed to his throne and arranged himself on it as usual, never taking his eyes off his green haired fellow prince, and Vancha could tell it was going to be bad. Especially for him.

Finally, Darren opened his mouth and announced:

"Tonight, it is time for something different. Our questionings have never been conclusive so far, so its time to set an example. Maybe an execution will do our estranged 'cousins' good."

There was a collective inward gasp of breath. Execution? Not one single prisoner had been executed for over three years!

Vancha flinched. _Why does it always have to be me before you stand up and say something?!_

"So," Darren clapped his hands. "No point in hanging around. Whoever wishes can watch." He jumped off his throne and sauntered to the back of the hall. "Well aren't you coming? Vancha?" He snickered.

A sick dread suddenly filled Vancha's stomach and Mika put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't give him the satisfaction." Muttered the dark-haired prince uncharacteristically.

Vancha clenched his fists against the yell that was fighting to come out of his mouth and let Mika push him along the corridors to the Hall of Death.

As soon as they opened the doors, noise assaulted his ears. Vampires, hundreds of them (thousands even) yelling and howling for blood. They were whipping themselves up into a group frenzy, screaming and shouting like wild animals.

Mika screwed up his face in disgust at their behaviour, but all Vancha could do was numbly take in the scene.

Darren was perched atop one of the cages which were propped up against the wall, grinning at the howling vampires, taking in the madness and chaos that he wanted. On seeing Mika and Vancha, he waved them over.

"Any preferences?" He asked innocently, smiling in a sadistic way that was the opposite of his tone.

When neither of them said anything he clapped his hands and called over a green-clad guard, whispering to him exactly which vampaneze he wanted. The man saluted and marched out, beckoning to some others.

Vancha stood tensely as the chaos ensued for a few minutes more, but suddenly there was a deafening hush which made him sick to his heart.

The guards had returned with three vampaneze. Specifically chosen for maximum effect. At the forefront, a guard dragged a young boy, a half-vampaneze; behind him, the woman whom Vancha had seen the night before stumbled blindly next to her guard, barely conscious. And finally, the right hand of the fallen Vampaneze Lord.

As the last guard filed in, the vampires began to scream again, and with renewed fervour. Vancha didn't know if it was because all three victims were now unable to escape, or the sight of Gannen – Steve Leonard's right hand - or both which prompted them.

It was like a kick in the stomach, although he'd known it was coming, a physical pain in his gut. Nothing, save for Mika's hand on his shoulder, stopped him from shouting out, and he watched helplessly as the three vampaneze were chained inside their cages.

Darren giggled and leapt down off his perch. He waved his arms and screamed for silence before pacing up and down the line of vampaneze.

Everyone expected a long gloating speech, but the demented child simply put two fingers to his eyes and one to his forehead.

"Even in death," he said mockingly. "May you be triumphant." Then he spat at them. It caught the female across her face and she visibly suppressed a retch.

A wave of cackling swept through the watching vampires, and they all began to copy the Lord of the Shadows, making death's touch sign in perverse mockery of their blood cousins. And at the same time, of themselves. Mocking laughter rang through the hall, while their spit fell short and plummeted into the waiting pit.

In the face of the hissing, spitting vampires, the young half-vampaneze was shaking, and the woman (who had come around quickly) was clenching at the shackles around her wrists, her face betrayed her rage, which had chased away the traces of fear.

They both looked at Gannen, who was between them, and from where he was, Vancha saw his brother shake his head ever so slightly at each of them. His mouth moved, but from this distance not even Vancha's vampire senses enabled him to hear the words.

All three vampaneze stared directly ahead now, standing as straight as their shackles allowed, trying to keep any scrap of pride they could, facing their imminent death with as much bravery as they could muster.

The first was the youngest. As his cage jerked off the ground, tears began to fall from his eyes and he cried freely.

Neither the female vampaneze nor Gannen let their eyes leave his for one second as he was hoisted above the stakes, trying to give him some comfort in his last seconds, letting him know he wasn't alone, even as he coughed blood and cage was dropped a second time.

The vampires jeered and crowed as two guards retrieved the punctured corpse from the pit, slinging it to the ground in front of the remaining pair. Darren kicked it casually, eliciting snarls from both of them.

They could force the two prisoners to look but they couldn't force the female to open her eyes as, slowly, in front of the dead boy's companions, Darren produced a short sword and began to dismember the body, stabbing its eyes out, slicing off its limbs, carving out its heart and finally beheading it like some sort of demented surgeon.

When she opened her eyes to the bloody carnage that had once been her companion, the female vampaneze began to scream, jerking against her bounds, flinging curses and damnations at the Vampire Prince.

"They'll wait for you beneath paradise!" She screamed. "You'll endure every second of what you did too him and more! Monster!"

Darren just smiled at her and, leaning forward, flicked the blood onto her face.

"Her next." Vancha heard him order the guard who was in charge of the cages.

She didn't go quietly. She screamed curses at them even as her cage rushed down towards the stakes, coughing and attempting to scream at them even when they hauled the cage back up, though blood was pouring from her body and spraying from her mouth as she shouted.

Her corpse received the same punishment as her predecessor's, although this time, Darren made a big show of cutting out her tongue.

Finally…

"Now!" Screamed Darren at the murmuring vampires. "Who remembers the Lord of the Vampaneze?"

There was a roar which Darren cut off with a wave of his hand.

"You know that, sadly, I had to take the pleasure of killing him upon myself. But I have something else for you. The Lord of the Vampaneze's right hand."

Another deafening crash of sound.

Mika grabbed at Vancha's arm and missed, not being able to stop the other Prince from dashing forward. Darren whirled around, but before he could do anything, Vancha drew up short.

_No._

His recognised the word on his brother's lips even if he didn't hear it, and their eyes locked onto each others.

And Vancha understood.

Gannen didn't want Vancha to save him. He wanted to die with the little dignity he had left; match what his companions had endured with so much bravery.

Lowering his arms, Vancha stepped back to his place beside Mika and said nothing.

Everything inside of him screamed at him to do something, to stop this. His brother needed him! As he had so often when they were children… he needed Vancha's help… But in his heart, Vancha knew that Gannen would never forgive him if he interfered now. So although his every thought, feeling and memory screamed at him not too, he stood where he was and said nothing.

Gannen's expression didn't change as the mechanisms began to haul his cage up, but Vancha could hear the words as if they had been spoken aloud.

_Thank you. _

Vancha's eyes never left Gannen's. He didn't hear the screaming of the vampires, didn't hear Darren's derogatory insults and tirades, didn't see the frenzied vampires making the mocking death's touch sign; he only saw his brother.

In that moment, all was forgiven - all grudges forgotten, all hatred lost – and everything was as it should be.

He remembered everything. Every sad moment and every minute of laughter flashed in his mind. Summers spent tearing around the countryside and winters spent by the fire, talking long into the night. The agony and cruelty of their separation. Dreams that had been shared and then shattered. Laughing and crying together…

Then the cage was released.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

_When you were young and your heart,_

_Was an open book_

_They used to say: "Live and let live."_

_But if this ever changing world in which we live in_

_Makes you give in and cry,_

_Say: "Live and let die."_

- Elton John, _Live and Let Die_


End file.
